


Dear Lucy

by darkmochecoffee



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Office, Don't read if you're easily offended, Drunk Blow Jobs, Interns & Internships, M/M, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, completely fictional don't date your boss!, questionable work environment, stupid bets, typical frat boy chanyeol
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:40:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24143758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkmochecoffee/pseuds/darkmochecoffee
Summary: Junmyeon Kim does his internship at Magnus and proceeds to fall in love (and lust) with kind, goofy and genius Yifan Wu. That doesn't really sound so complicated but it just so happens that Yifan is (also) his boss.
Relationships: Kim Junmyeon | Suho & Wu Yi Fan | Kris, Kim Junmyeon | Suho/Wu Yi Fan | Kris
Comments: 15
Kudos: 70





	1. Chapter 1

**DEAR LUCY** ONE OF THREE

* * *

In all honesty, it’s not that Junmyeon is weak against his friends’ whims. His benevolence is just one of the many wonderful byproducts of being in a group full of complete and total idiots. In his defense, Chanyeol did tell him one time that he would have long landed himself in jail if it weren’t for Junmyeon’s levelheadedness and perpetual, ceaseless patience.

Screw that, Junmyeon just doesn't have a cold enough heart to watch _his_ idiots get themselves into incriminating situations when he could prevent it from happening in the first place.

Though sometimes, Junmyeon loses some of his prized levelheadedness, he's human too. Chanyeol just had this vibe around him, he’s convincing and compelling and Junmyeon sometimes gets swayed and he ends up getting tangled with whatever idiotic schemes his friends are up to just for shits and giggles.

Don’t get him wrong. He likes to comfort himself with the thought that he's bloody fucking brilliant. He's in final year of university, computer engineering. In addition to that he's got straight As, GPA stellar at 4.0. Not to mention, Junmyeon just had this aura about him. He’s all soft pastels, nondescript button downs ironed to fucking perfection; he wears leather loafers all the time because he’s a goddamn _bougie_ like that. 

But he’s not best friends with someone like Chanyeol Park, whose guts half of the population loathed because he’s fuckboy extraordinaire who knew no such thing as commitment, for nothing. There’s also Sehun and Jongin, both too wrapped up in each other to even pay attention to everyone who’s willing to lay down their lives for just one night. Three of them are in the performing arts school, Chanyeol’s a music major, the other two are combined dance and theater majors.

Funnily enough, they all click, and Junmyeon to this day isn’t sure how in the world that happened.

Junmyeon isn’t artsy. He likes Van Gogh though, but he’s not nearly as inclined to the arts like his best friends do. Computers are his thing, computers are uncomplicated, computers listen to him.

“And this, friends and enemies, is the reason why Junmyeon Kim is still single up to this day.” Chanyeol dramatically proclaims to everyone in hearing distance in their university’s cafeteria. Junmyeon glares at Chanyeol through the lid of his eco-friendly thermos cup. “Correct. Though in my defense, it’s unlikely that I am to catch some sort of sexually transmitted infection from the sheer amount of people I fuck.”

Sehun chokes and sprays an unsuspecting Jongin with the cola in his mouth.

“You’re such a disgusting fuck.” Jongin complains, shoving the spindly dancer away. Sehun is uncaring and is slowly turning red from laughing too much. “Oh, Park. He’s got you good.”

Frowning, Chanyeol says, “That’s a low blow. I make sure to glove the disco stick. Anyway, my point is that I want to see you with someone for once. Dating and happy and in love that it’s completely and utterly disgusting.” Chanyeol throws him the kicked-dog-eyes. “Come on Myeonie which sort of homo sapien do you prefer? Blue eyes? Red hair? Asian? White? I need deets.”

“That’s big coming from you, Yeol. The last time I saw you with someone serious was in high school. And now you suddenly want me to date?”

Chanyeol’s dog eyes intensify. “Please? It’s in the name of science.”

“Why are you so questionably invested anyway? I’m telling you, my cock works just fine and I don’t plan on going out anytime soon.”

“But why?” It’s Jongin that hits him with the dog eyes this time. Junmyeon is about seventy-eight percent sure that these weirdos have some deal going on that he doesn’t know about.

Junmyeon fought this battle bravely. “I don’t know. Because I don’t want to?”

“But Junmyeon.”

Junmyeon hates those fucking eyes.

“You know what, fine. I’m gonna find myself some pretty human on the internship. I’m gonna wine and dine them, then we’re gonna fuck. Happy now?”

Chanyeol and Jongin yell. They probably bet on this, motherfuckers.

“Do know that I truly despise you guys.”

"You love us Junmyeon."

//

The place is called Magnus. Junmyeon had seen it on the news before the beginning of his internship semester and his interest was immediately piqued. Magnus is a start-up tech business branched out from a huge telecommunications company. They’d won a couple of awards last year, the CEO is apparently an electronics genius, belongs to 30 under 30, and the environment is allegedly lax. Junmyeon had filed an application for their very inclusive _learning_ program and immediately got in.

It’s a chilly Monday morning when he strides into the place - an ultramodern edifice with glass walls and chrome trimmings. The lobby is spartan in quality and dotted with monochromatic furniture. The place reeked of eucalyptus and mint.

A man dressed in some jeans and a cartoon T-shirt under a black blazer suddenly approaches, looking spooked when he says, “Good morning sir, I’m Baekhyun Byun. It’s my first day.”

Junmyeon raises an eyebrow, “I’m Junmyeon Kim. It’s my first day too. I assume you’re an intern like me?”

Baekhyun goes red and visibly deflates. “Oh wow, I thought you’re the boss. Dude, I thought they didn’t have a dress code.”

Junmyeon looks down at his loafers, black slacks and the cuff of his baby pink button down. He frowns. Just then, a short man who’s dressed very much like Junmyeon approaches. The man looked…severe. He had on thick glasses and in his grasp is a hand held tablet. “Good morning, I assume you guys are the new interns?”

Junmyeon and Baekhyun nod.

“I’m Kyungsoo, I’m the head of the finance department, I’ll walk you through the job. Follow me.”

//

“Do you think we’ll get to see the CEO.” Baekhyun asks as he sips his black coffee. Junmyeon fights the urge to cringe.

He’s made a friend out of the other intern. Baekhyun’s a broadcasting major and Junmyeon has yet to ask why he’s doing his internship at a tech company.

“I don’t know. I’m pretty sure the man’s busy. Why do you want to see him?”

Magnus' CEO is a man called Yifan Wu. The website only states his short biography excluding a photo because he's mysterious like that. 

Baekhyun leans forward, whispering conspiratorially, “They say he’s hot.”

Junmyeon chuckles, “God, that reminds me of a promise I made.”

“What? To fuck the boss?”

Junmyeon almost spews out his tea. “To an extent yes, but not necessarily the boss.”

Baekhyun frowns 

“Anyway, the interns from Kyungsoo’s department are gonna go out for drinks later, wanna come?”

Junmyeon shrugs, “Sure.”

//

In retrospect, Junmyeon shouldn’t have agreed.

There must be something in those drinks because he’s not usually this much of a lightweight but _goddamn_ he is dizzy. The thing is, Junmyeon’s the brave kind of drunk. He’s not usually inhibited but when he’s had enough alcohol in his system he becomes entirely someone else. It’s incredibly _bad_ since Baekhyun had ditched him in favor of wooing the bartender, and the rest of the interns are grinding it out on the packed dance floor.

Junmyeon watches as the lights dance on his skin, it’s hypnotic. The bass of the questionable music feels good for once because he’s the right amount of drunk. He tosses back one more shot before he leaves the table and heads for the tall stranger who’s been eyeing him since earlier. Junmyeon thinks the stranger doesn’t look bad. He’s got dark hair, a model’s stature, beautiful - Junmyeon could wax more poetically about the man if he isn’t so intoxicated.

Surprisingly the man stands up and meets Junmyeon halfway. Junmyeon’s skin feels hot, long sleeves weren’t a good idea.

The man grabs Junmyeon’s forearm and Junmyeon easily falls against the man’s chest. “Hey.” He says, languidly swaying to the beat and pulling Junmyeon closer. Junmyeon stares at the man’s face and he finds himself smiling. _Oh wow look at you._ Testing the waters, Junmyeon throws his arms around the man’s neck and subtly grinds against him. “Did you like the view? You’ve been staring.” He asks against the loud music. The man chuckles against the lobe of Junmyeon’s ear. “Yes. The view’s pretty hot.” Junmyeon eyes the door to the men’s loo, just a few paces from the dance floor, and thinks about the pros and cons of getting on his knees to suck some dick. The stranger suddenly leans down and leaves a kiss on Junmyeon’s jaw, subtle but the intent is clear.

_Whatever._

He pulls the man out of the dance floor. They practically stagger to the thankfully empty washroom.

“I’m Yifan.” The man says as Junmyeon pushes him against the door.

Junmyeon nods, “Junmyeon.” is all he says before he’s pulling the man by his collar and fusing their lips together in a far too filthy kiss. The man groans against the seam of Junmyeon’s mouth and his hands wander lower, grasping Junmyeon’s ass and squeezing. _What the fuck, that’s hot._ Junmyeon isn’t going to let himself lose. He fumbles with Yifan’s belt and he’s impatient and too drunk that he’s losing some of his dexterity.

“W-wait.” Yifan says pulling away from the kiss. “Are you sure about this?”

_Is this man for real?_

They’re both half-hard and Junmyeon kind of wants to scream. Instead he says, “I’m drunk and I wanna suck your dick. Should have I asked?”

The man laughs. “Wow, you’re adorable. Can I take you home?”

_What the fuck?_

He doesn’t look like a serial killer, Junmyeon’s inebriated mind supplies, and he’s really hot.

“Sure.”

Junmyeon had to stop himself from swaying when they exit the club (he texted Baekhyun saying he’s going to ditch) The floor seems to be tipping and Junmyeon realizes just how drunk he is. Outside, it’s cold, and he shivers. The stranger, _Yifan,_ shrugs off his coat and casually slings it over Junmyeon’s shoulder. “It’s cold. Don’t get sick.” _Is this proper one night stand behavior?_

Dumbly, Junmyeon says, “Uh, thanks.”

They stop in front of Yifan’s car, a black Mercedes G65, and Junmyeon’s eyes almost bug out. So, stranger’s hot and loaded. Yifan opens the passenger door for Junmyeon, like a proper gentleman. Junmyeon couldn’t help but laugh, “Thanks.”

The drive is unusually calm, the sexual tension has completely evaporated and in its stead is this unnerving silence. Junmyeon doesn’t even know what to say. Thankfully the ride is short.

Yifan parks in front of this really posh skyscraper with a valet and everything. Junmyeon can’t believe his own luck. The concierge greets Yifan to which he replies with a short nod. Junmyeon suddenly wants to bolt out, regretting that he’d given in to his all consuming urges.

They enter the lift and Yifan presses the button for the thirty-fourth floor, the penthouse. It’s awkward but at the same time, Junmyeon has gone too far to backtrack on his dick appointment so what the hell. The lift opens and Junmyeon follows Yifan to his unit. As soon as they enter, the lights automatically switch on. The man’s flat is clean and it awfully reminds Junmyeon of Magnus' building, even the scent is egregiously similar.

“Want some tea?” Yifan says as he neatly files his shoes in the cabinet nearest the door. Junmyeon nods and does the same.

Fuck, it’s awkward but at the same time Yifan is far too handsome underneath proper lighting and Junmyeon wants nothing but to be railed by him. He can’t stop wondering how Yifan can maintain this air of casualness, even the way he serves Junmyeon some Earl Grey looks so comfortable, as if they’ve been doing it for years.

“So Junmyeon, how old are you?” Is what Yifan asks right after he takes his first sip. He stares at Junmyeon, expecting an answer. Junmyeon tries to avoid the man’s gaze or he might just strip then and there. “Twenty-two. I still want to kiss you by the way.”

Yifan laughs and he stands up and moves to the other side of the breakfast counter where he brackets Junmyeon against the marble edge and kisses him. Yifan swallows the moan that leaves Junmyeon’s mouth and Junmyeon helplessly grabs at Yifan’s collar like he can’t get enough.

“You can call me Fan.” Yifan says this against the skin of Junmyeon’s neck. He pulls Junmyeon up and they amble to what Junmyeon thinks is a bedroom. He’s still pretty drunk when he falls on the bed. Yifan wedges a knee between Junmyeon’s thighs and Junmyeon arches, seeking friction. Yifan chuckles at his helplessness. “I really want to do you but I feel bad doing this when you’re clearly intoxicated.”

Junmyeon is so hard and his erection pathetically brushes against Yifan’s thigh, he thinks he might actually cry. “You can’t be doing this to me.” Junmyeon whines, “I’m fine. I promise.”

Yifan smiles as he deftly unbuckles Junmyeon’s belt and smoothly pulls his slacks down, boxers and all. Junmyeon keens when large palms envelops his cock. He bites back a moan. Yifan kisses him, filthy and hot. Junmyeon suddenly wants to burst into flames.

“Please, _please.”_ Junmyeon begs, shifting against the palm on his cock. “Oh my god.” 

Yifan’s lips move south. He plants a solid kiss on Junmyeon's hip, down on Junmyeon’s thigh until his mouth ghost over the tip of Junmyeon’s cock. Junmyeon is halfway crying when Yifan finally takes him to his mouth. It’s _hot_ and it’s taking everything not to thrust into that heat. Yifan takes him like a champ and Junmyeon barely warns when he’s coming apart.

“I wanna sit on your cock.” Junmyeon says, body still buzzing from both alcohol and his orgasm. “So fucking much.”

“Maybe after I take you out to dinner.”

Everything’s hazy, the effect of the alcohol taking its last minute run on Junmyeon’s body. He stares at the man one more time, tries to memorize what his one night stand looks like before sleep eventually claims him.

The next time Junmyeon wakes up, he’s on an unfamiliar bed. He immediately regrets drinking the night before but that wouldn’t do him any good now that he’s suffering through the consequences of his bad choices. He stands up after belatedly surveying his state of dress - how nice of the stranger to not leave him to freeze in his underpants. He leaves the bed and does the walk of shame, ironically, with his head held high. He’s expecting someone to be in the house but clearly he’s alone, there’s cold breakfast on the table and a note that says:

_Hey. didn’t wake you up, you looked like you needed the rest. Had an emergency to attend to at work. Call me, alright?_

There’s a phone number scribbled in a barely legible scrawl. Junmyeon takes one look and decides to stuff the note in his pocket. He finishes the breakfast oh so quickly and thanks whatever god is out there for giving him such small mercies. He leaves a thank you note and makes himself scarce.

He doesn’t call, because who the fuck does that?

//

“We’re meeting him today.” Baekhyun doesn’t bother to hide the way he’s practically shaking in excitement. Junmyeon looks at his friend and sips his tea, his headache has been such a bitch. “Who?”

“CEO Wu.” Baekhyun answers after taking a messy bite off his chicken sandwich, “The man, the myth, the legend! The sole reason why I decided to do my internship in this blasted branch instead of the mother company.”

Junmyeon chuckles, “I can’t begin to think how that’s a good enough reason. Is he hot?”

Baekhyun shrugs, “Haven’t seen him but I read all his interviews. He’s practically a genius and I think that’s what makes him hot.” Junmyeon can’t blame him, he likes a man with brains himself.

Baekhyun regales him with more tales of the great CEO Wu and Junmyeon wonders how the man looks like. He’s probably balding because it will be completely unfair if the man is a millionaire, a genius, and hot at the same time. 

Junmyeon has this preconceived image of CEO Wu so when the interns - all fifteen of them - were asked to gather in the lounge to introduce themselves to the boss and Junmyeon’s one night stand, who he’d ghosted for a week, strides into the room, Junmyeon fucking chokes.

And no, this isn’t a hyperbole. He starts _wheezing_ , coughing so hard like something big has lodged itself in his windpipe

Yifan (yes, he remembers because no matter how trashed he’d been that face is unforgettable) takes two long strides to Junmyeon, “Jesus, are you okay? Can somebody give me a bottle of water please?”

Gratefully, Junmyeon receives the water bottle (fucking single use plastic) and downs half of it before he manages to regain his bearings. He meets Yifan’s concerned gaze and suddenly remembers how trashy he was when they were together. _Oh god, please take me. I asked this man if I could ride his dick to oblivion and I’m still willing to do just that._

“Hey, aren’t you -”

“Hello sir my name is Junmyeon Kim I’m in the production department!” Junmyeon practically shouts.

“I know.” Yifan says, grinning. He wears thick framed glasses, a far too casual cartoon shirt underneath some black blazer and a pair of jeans. Junmyeon, in his usual slacks and loafers, looks more like the boss between them. It’s mind boggling.

“Anyway guys, you can call me Yifan. I’m twenty-seven so I’d prefer if you drop the _sir,_ it makes me feel old. I’ll see you all around, I guess?”

Junmyeon manages to avoid the general chaos of introductions after that. He quietly slips out of the lounge and the first thing he grabs when he gets to his cubicle is his thermos. He needs some fucking tea.

//

Junmyeon spends the next few days like an elusive rodent, scrambling to hide whenever Yifan’s general presence is around. It’s a good thing that Yifan is rarely in the office. Word on the grapevine is that Yifan’s schedule is cramped with business meetings in and out of the country. It seems to be the truth; the bags underneath Kyungsoo’s eyes don’t lie.

Of course, the universe hates Junmyeon’s guts. He keeps on thinking about his series of bad decisions and it upsets him to such a degree that he gets stomach pains. He’s developing ulcers due to the fact that he slept with his boss and ghosted him right after.

Just fantastic.

Baekhyun eventually catches on to Junmyeon’s apparent distress a week later. It’s lunch break, Junmyeon can’t stop picking the veggies out of his honey rye chicken sandwich. “Hey, everything alright up third? You look so out of it.”

Junmyeon shrugs, “If I tell you something scandalous, would you go around and spread it?”

“Depends.” Baekhyun teases, drizzling a questionable amount of lemon juice on his Caesar salad. “Is this scandalous thing the reason why you seem so ready to quit any moment now?”

Junmyeon sighs, “Not really. Remember the club you dragged me to three weeks ago?”

“Yeah. Hey, I apologized about ditching you.”

“It’s not about that.”

“Well, what is it?”

“I met Yifan in that club the same night and we kind of fucked.”

Baekhyun chokes, a few pieces of half chewed romaine lettuce flying out of his mouth. Junmyeon makes a face, “Jesus, don’t die on me Baek.”

“Hold up, so you just fucked our boss?”

“Not technically. I was shit fuck drunk so things didn’t go further.”

Baekhyun looks pleased regardless of the news. Junmyeon thinks he will fit in just fine with Chanyeol and the rest of the gang. He wonders how in the world he manages to gravitate towards people with questionable intentions, such fine luck.

“The question is, did you want it to go further?”

Junmyeon’s cheeks morph into a lovely red shade. He refuses to verbally answer and Baekhyun laughs at his face for five minutes straight.

//

Junmyeon Kim has been living a generally peaceful existence until he comes upon a note written on a tiny piece of paper with a hot pink gel pen. In a particularly ugly scrawl, the paper tells him _come to my office._ Just as his confusion kicks in, Sooyoung, the tiny girl in the cubicle next to his, says “Sir, _er, Y_ ifan was here earlier. He told me that he wants to see you in his office.”

Junmyeon manages to curtail his shock, nodding dumbly. “Uh, yes, thanks.”

Sooyoung smiles her sunshine grin, completely oblivious to the panic that she casually pushed Junmyeon into.

_Great._

Slightly fearing for the state of his internship, Junmyeon quietly assesses the pros and cons of ignoring a direct order from the boss. _He’s not actually serious about this., right? Anyway, I’m sure I can press charges on him when he attempts something. But then again, I’m just a halfway broke student, and he’s the multimillionaire CEO. Junmyeon, fuck, think._

In the end, he caves into logical thoughts and not even a minute later, he finds himself standing before the frosted glass door to Yifan’s personal office. Junmyeon wants to bash his forehead against something hard, maybe if he gets a concussion he won’t have to see Yifan in the foreseeable future.

 _Jesus, it’s just your boss. Don’t think about something else, don’t think about how you wanted him to fuck you into the next decade, don’t. Just don’t. Ah, screw it._ When Junmyeon’s knuckles connect against the door, the previously opaque glass becomes transparent. Junmyeon looks up and sees his boss standing on the other side of the door, a smile on his face. Junmyeon’s eyes bug out, _how long has he been there?_ But before Junmyeon can think about it further, Yifan is already opening the door. “Finally. I was waiting for you. Come in.”

Before he decided on this ridiculous situation, Junmyeon thought about how to creatively protest his way out of this but as he steps into Yifan’s office, all of those thoughts dissipate. The wide office is parted in half with another opaque glass wall that would probably turn transparent on Yifan’s command. The eastern wing is a typical office, before the floor to ceiling window is a large desk and a high backed swivel chair. No other things in sight. The western wing however is a technologically advanced workshop - pretty trashed but filled with so much fascinating tech that Junmyeon’s only ever read in theory or seen in movies.

“Wow.”

“Wow what?”

Junmyeon comes back to earth in milliseconds. “Uh, _sir,_ I was told to come here. Do you need me for anything, sir?”

“Junmyeon, it’s Yifan.”

“Alright, _er,_ Yifan. Do you want me to do anything?”

“Actually, yes. My assistant’s on a postpartum break and I require you to stand in her place for the meantime.”

There’s a sly glint in Yifan’s eyes and Junmyeon thinks he’s in utter danger.

“Alright, Yifan.”

“Good.”

//

It’s not _good_ all in all, per se. Though Junmyeon truly appreciates the fact that Yifan has not mentioned their illicit tryst even once. He will never be ready for that conversation, ever. He would soon rather get run over than talk. 

Junmyeon does not find himself counting the days towards the end of his internship because the tech he’s being exposed to is top of the line and as much as he hates being a glorified errand boy, he still goes around in circles, stopping everything that’s currently going on for him on Yifan’s beck and call.

It’s insane.

It’s been two weeks now and Baekhyun often snickers at Junmyeon when they see each other in the hallways. Junmyeon’s even learned to drink black coffee because Yifan prefers the abomination of a drink above everything else.

“Still his coffee boy?” Baekhyun jests pushing half of his sandwich wedge to Junmyeon’s direction. Junmyeon nods vigorously. “I even drink coffee now. The only time I drink coffee is when I’m shit fuck hung over. But I haven’t been drunk in ages now.” Junmyeon whines.

Baekhyun, amid chewing on his usual honey rye sandwich, pats Junmyeon consolingly. “There, there. At least you can see him at work. Word on the grapevine says he’s efficient. What do you say to that?”

Junmyeon has seen Yifan work firsthand. For a businessman, the CEO is unusually focused on the mechanical and manual aspects of the job. Junmyeon surmises the cause of Kyungsoo’s perpetual sleeplessness is Yifan’s aversion to paperwork. He just cannot seem to be bothered unless necessary.

“Yes.” Junmyeon sighs as soon as he sees his work phone light up. “He is a fucking mess Baekhyun but he gets the job done. Speak of the devil and the devil hears, I have been summoned.” Baekhyun just nods, “Good luck, Junmyeon.”

Junmyeon sprints all the way to Yifan’s office. He’s learned not to knock since Yifan can see him approach anyway. “Yifan, you need me for anything?”

Said man is busy on the west wing, programming for some robotics that he once told Junmyeon, would eventually go on to assist cardiothoracic surgeons. Yifan rises to his full height, his hair is in a disarray, his sleeplessness evident in the dark circles underneath his usually clear eyes. Worried, Junmyeon approaches and casually presses a hand onto Yifan’s forehead.

Between numerous coffee runs, Yifan asking him to do paperwork and a couple of truly mundane errands like picking up the dry cleaning, the two of them have gotten real close -- a camaraderie honed by insane work ethic and a passion for technological advancement, and to some degree, coffee.

“You’re not sick, are you?” Junmyeon frowns, “Do you feel alright?”

Yifan grins at him, gums showing. His smile mirrors the animated character on his shirt. Junmyeon eyes its googly pastel orifices in distaste. “I feel fine, I was wondering if you want to get lunch with me?”

“We can arrange that.” Junmyeon says, already grabbing his tablet, “What will you be having today?”

Yifan puts both hands on Junmyeon’s shoulders, draws Junmyeon closer so that he can stare directly onto Junmyeon’s eyes. “How about I have _you_ instead.”

Junmyeon chokes.

“I’m kidding, Junmyeon.” Yifan chuckles, resonant and full of mirth. “But you don’t understand, I told you I want to grab lunch with you. I’m sick of eating here, let’s go out.”

“Wait, Yifan --”

“Come on Junmyeon, I’m starving let’s go!”

//

“Yifan,” Junmyeon breathes, stopping right before Yifan’s intimidating black Mercedes G65. “I think this is a bad idea.” Yifan glances at him, keys already dangling on his finger. “Of course not. It’s just lunch, Myeon. And we’re both starving. Now to starve is a bad idea, my brain doesn’t work as it should be.” Yifan gives him the kicked puppy eyes, “Come on, please?”

“Fine.”

Junmyeon enters the vehicle and he listens to whatever random idea pops into Yifan’s head and exits through his mouth. The older had this naiveté about him, not exactly what Junmyeon would call childish, but something closer to the lines of childlike fascination. Yifan is an absolutely fascinating creature and his mind is a wonder.

Though sometimes he can be questionable. Junmyeon cannot count the times he’s received messages from Yifan at some godforsaken hour, asking mundane questions like _do you think there’s life on Mars?_ On some days it could be as simple as _what sort of milk do you like on your cappuccino?_ Up to this day, Junmyeon often wonders what sort of genius Yifan’s offered to currently stand on his technological empire. But, he digresses, it must have been something mind-blowingly phenomenal.

Anyway, lunch, as the first order of things. Junmyeon snaps the seatbelt across his front and brandishes his work tablet. He begins to rattle random food options. “Want some Chinese?” His fingers scroll further down the screen, “Some Pad Thai, or we could go visit this seafood restaurant. You’ve been saying you wanted crabs.” Junmyeon glances at Yifan, whose eyes shine behind thick glasses, at the mention of food.

“Is that the thing with the boat?” The older inquires, “Where’s it located?”

Junmyeon laughs, “What boat are you talking about?”

“A seafood boat Myeon. The thing that’s piled high with crabs and shrimps and lobsters and come what may. I’m starving I can practically eat an entire octopus.”

Junmyeon rolls his eyes, “Seafood it is boss. Here’s the address.”

//

The boat is egregiously massive of course. Though delighted, Junmyeon cannot seem to wrap his head around the fact that Yifan’s about to consume seafood enough to feed five more people. Junmyeon finds himself mildly concerned, though at the same time annoyingly endeared by Yifan’s happy inclination to food.

“Are you sure about this?” Junmyeon asks as he stares at the slowly growing pile of shrimp remains on Yifan’s plate. The CEO simply nods, shoving even more food into his mouth. He smiles. Junmyeon thinks it’s horribly cute.

He tells himself not to get attached.

“It’s fucking fantastic.” Yifan intones and cracks a massive pair of crab pincers and digs out its meat and dumps it onto Junmyeon’s plate. “Here try this, it’s heavenly.”

“It’s bad for my uric acid.” Junmyeon jests though the action has him blushing like a teenager.

“Quit hinging about uric acid. You’re twenty-two not fifty-two.”

“Yes boss.”

Yifan grins. He’s adorable. Junmyeon’s heart does backflips worthy of their own Olympics event.

Thing is, Yifan possesses a certain quality to him that never intimidated Junmyeon, or anyone else for that matter. The older man’s always been such a jovial, happy-go-lucky sort of creature. He could be drowning neck deep in spare parts, computer programs, and algorithms and yet no one has ever caught Yifan in a dark mood. Junmyeon presumes that’s just how Yifan is. 

“I’m about to finish _Lucy.”_ Yifan says in between batches of fully deveined shrimp and cheesy scallops. “Three hundred days of nearly nonstop coding Myeon and I’m about to deliver my third child to the world. Are you proud of me? She’s a labor of love.”

 _Lucy_ is an operating room assistant. An AI program capable of natural voice that is originally meant for neurosurgeons operating on extra delicate cases. Yifan calls it his personal passion project and has been so secretive about it, thus far. Even the folks at Magnus barely know anything about it.

Though Junmyeon flushes to his roots since Yifan had shown him the grueling process to create the program.

Junmyeon chuckles, “It sounds odd if you put it like that, Fan.”

The giant puppy gives Junmyeon a fresh set of kicked puppy eyes. “You’re mean.” 

“Fine, I’m just gonna pretend I don’t know you call Lucy your child.”

Affronted, Yifan scowls. “Myeon how could you dismiss our child like that. Lucy is my labor of love as much as she is yours. At this rate, you’re like his other dad.”

To this jest, Junmyeon can’t help but color just slightly. So far, no one in the firm, not even Kyungsoo, has seen Yifan painstakingly assemble the program as much as Junmyeon does. Yifan once told him that he was incredibly impressed by Junmyeon's knowledge and seemingly inherent expertise that he had allowed Junmyeon to do some of the coding himself. Junmyeon doesn’t say much about this, but deep inside he’s very pleased and quite proud of his feat.

“Well thanks,” Junmyeon rolls his eyes and jests, “Should I start calling you my ‘husband’ too?”

Yifan laughs as he dumps more seafood onto Junmyeon’s plate. Behind his mask of joking indifference, Junmyeon honestly thinks Yifan is beautiful.

//

“Fan, I really think you should rest.”

Junmyeon worries through his bottom lip as he helplessly watches Yifan check and recheck Lucy. He’s done this task close to a few thousand times and the both of them are aware that Lucy can’t get more perfect. She is the most infallible device, she is flawless, and she will do exactly what Yifan wants her to do.

The office is dark, save for the glare emanating from Yifan’s double screens and the faint light projected by the holographic displays. Yifan sits in the center of his messy workstation and his visage doesn't disguise the exhaustion on his face.

“Fan, please?”

Nicknames. Junmyeon sounds like Yifan’s (thus far) nonexistent significant other. They’ve started on the nicknames about a week ago after Junmyeon had put Yifan’s daily dose of triple shot flat white with the word _Fan_ messily scribbled on the surface of the disposable paper cup.

“I think I’m gonna start calling you that from now on, boss.” Junmyeon was joking but three hours later, he’d unconsciously used the nickname and has never parted with it since.

By the looks of their current predicament, it’s obvious that Yifan seems hinged on the catastrophic idea that something will go incredibly wrong tomorrow, when Lucy is finally presented to the board of directors for the first time. It’s Lucy’s official debut and nothing, absolutely nothing, should go wrong. Yifan is restless, too wired from the coffee he’s been binge drinking the last forty-eight hours.

Junmyeon is seeing another side to the man for the very first time. Previously, he’d been under the impression that millionaires who belong to thirty under thirty are supposed to be cool and composed. Generally, they're supposed to be people who got their lives together.

Currently, Yifan isn’t any of those things. Junmyeon is both dead concerned and oddly endeared.

“But Myeon what if something goes wrong?” Yifan tiredly inquires. He rakes long fingers through his untidy hair and lets out a drawn out, all suffering sigh. “What if I missed a code? What if it glitches? What if it fails to perform? What if the board doesn’t approve? Jesus, they’ll be the ones deciding if Lucy befits the green light for mass production and if they hate her, she’ll never see the light of day. She’ll be stuck until someone gets mildly interested to get her out of this dump.”

Junmyeon stares at the frazzled inventor before he puts yet another mug of coffee on Yifan’s glass table. The older is distressed, like it’s radiating off him. Junmyeon rounds the table and directs Yifan’s swivel seat so that they’re facing each other. Staring at Yifan’s perturbed expression, Junmyeon puts both palms on Yifan’s shoulders and takes a deep inhale.

“Forgive me. I’m fully aware that I’m not in the position to say this but as your intern and your assistant, I require you to get some sleep.” Yifan blinks at him, Junmyeon continues. “Nothing will go wrong Fan. It’ll be splendid. Lucy’s your baby and that means something. I assure you, everything’s going to go swimmingly tomorrow. Just trust yourself, alright? You’ll do wonderful. You always have.”

There’s a look on Yifan’s face and Junmyeon can bet his bottom dollar that the other was nearly in tears. It’s so stressful that it’s adorable. Junmyeon’s feelings are a fricassee, he’s got a crush on his boss and it’s terrible. He can’t catch real emotions, he doesn’t do emotions.

Yifan gives him another one of his puppy dog stares and Junmyeon inwardly cries.

Crush. It’s just a crush. Nothing serious.

“What?” Junmyeon asks, his tone is too gentle. He wants to slap himself. Yifan’s five years older than him. He doesn’t need to be babied, especially not by Junmyeon.

“You can drive right?”

Junmyeon nods.

“Take me home,” Puppy dog stare intensifies, “Please?”

Junmyeon sighs. “Alright Fan, alright. Let’s get you home.”

//

The last time Junmyeon was in Yifan’s penthouse, he was drunk out of his mind. Yifan offered him tea and later on gave Junmyeon one of the best blowjobs in his life. Junmyeon still remembers. It’s one thing he hates about himself –that he remembers all the idiocy he can do in his drunkenness in the fucking highest possible definition.

Yep. He hands Yifan the keys to his vehicle and shakes his head. He’s not entering the place, bad memories, embarrassing memories. _I wanna to sit on your cock_ and wailing like a personal slut sort of memories. Junmyeon wants to disintegrate into fine dust.

_Fuck, it can’t get worse than that._

Junmyeon really needs to run lest he die from sheer embarrassment.

“What?” Yifan’s eyes are tired when he looks at Junmyeon, “Aren’t you coming in?”

Junmyeon nervously chuckles, “I think I’ll need to bail Fan. Maybe next time?”

_Haha no shit. That ain’t happening._

Commence the saddest puppy dog stare. “I’m lonely. I don’t think I can sleep peacefully tonight. Can I ask you to stay? You can use my clothes.”

Yifan plays dirty. He knows Junmyeon’s weak for that stare. _Don’t look, it’s a trap. Don’t look, don’t look shit – Yifan you’re a little shit._

“Okay.”

Yifan gives him the most innocent looking smile. Junmyeo needs a moment to cry.

//

He’s not entirely sure how his current situation came to be but amid worrying about his boss’ –admittedly, Yifan is a friend. They just happen to work together – current state of distress and apparent lack of sleep, Junmyeon casually finds himself decked in a pastel yellow shirt three sizes bigger than his frame and some gray sweatpants with hems that excessively pool around his ankles. He’s in Yifan’s washroom, wielding a blow dryer as if he’s ready to use the contraption to hit some imaginary foe.

Junmyeon honestly cannot put his finger on what sort of mind space he’d forced himself into because Yifan’s penthouse brings such shameful memories and yes Yifan has finessed his blowjob skills to god tier levels and Junmyeon admits that if they were under different circumstances (say he isn’t his boss) Junmyeon would long be wailing like an a-class whore from underneath him. But, he digresses, the situation is not apt for any wailing and a-class whoring. Thank you very much.

Yifan’s about to fall asleep in front of the mirror. The cup of Earl Grey he’d been silently sipping mere minutes ago slowly cools on the side. Junmyeon directs the blow dryer on the man’s hair, fingers combing through short black locks. Yifan hums, impossibly pleased. Junmyeon rolls his eyes. “You know, I can get my last eighteen credits at another company. I’m pretty sure my job won’t involve any hair drying.”

The older stares at Junmyeon from the mirror. Junmyeon volleys the gaze, wondering if his offhanded joke was out of line. Yifan looks perturbed. Junmyeon gives him a raised brow. Yifan sighs, he turns away from the mirror. Junmyeon switches off the hairdryer and puts it away.

“What?” Junmyeon asks, now concerned.

“Do you not want any of this?” Yifan says and his tone is quiet and unsure. “It just occurred to me that you’re my intern and I actually shouldn’t be asking you these things. I’m sorry, Myeon. I’ve quite honestly forgotten.”

“It’s alright.” Junmyeon smiles, “Outside the office we’re _friends,_ right?”

Is this what casual friends do? Junmyeon can lie to himself. Friends, _pft,_ he likes Yifan. He is both sexually and _romantically_ inclined to the older man. To drive a point, Junmyeon’s willing to spend the rest of his life with Yifan. They could raise cats or Yifan’s choice of domestic animal, in some countryside where Yifan can install an ultramodern workshop inside a house made of oak wood and strong timbers. He can spend long, lazy autumn afternoons and the house will smell of freshly brewed Earl Grey and cinnamon.

But, Junmyeon digresses – _again –_ that’s only to drive a point.

Junmyeon doesn’t mind the slightest every miscellaneous thing he does for Yifan. Sure Yifan sends him on coffee runs, Junmyeon has to take care of him before he has a complete fucking breakdown over daily lunch choices and not to mention, Junmyeon also picks up the dry cleaning for him. It really doesn’t matter, Junmyeon even does it at will sometimes, especially when Yifan’s drowning neck deep in robotics and computer programs. The experience he gets in Magnus is irreplaceable. Yifan, despite being a multimillionaire and a virtuoso in his field, respects Junmyeon’s opinions and heralds his intellect with genuine amazement. Yifan’s never acted high and mighty despite being the literal owner of the company. The way he treats his employees show on everyone’s desire to do all they fucking can for Magnus. Junmyeon’s real proud he got the spot for his internship.

He picks up the hairdryer again, “Now let’s finish this before you catch a cold, _sir.”_

Yifan yawns, “Can we cuddle?”

Junmyeon is grateful for the whir of the device since it aptly covered his shocked, “What?”

“Cuddle?” Yifan repeats. Junmyeon wants to ask Yifan to explain to him the nuances of what a _cuddle_ entails like he’s five years old.

“Uhm, Fan, by some reason, have you forgotten what transpired the last time I was here?”

“Yeah, you dropped by to give me some of the _kimchi_ your mom made. Those were good by the way. Can I have more?”

Junmyeon slaps a palm to his face, “Before that Fan. Way before that. Drunk, tea, me acting like a slut. Ring a bell?”

Yifan gives Junmyeon a long hard stare. “Oh, _that_.”

“Yeah.”

“That. What about it?”

“Jesus, Fan are you serious?”

“Yeah. The first time I saw you, I thought you were really beautiful. Then you were coming on to me and I was coming on to you. I never expected you were gonna end up being my intern. And hey, I wanted to date you and you ghosted me.”

Junmyeon’s lifespan decreases at every word that leaves Yifan’s lips. He wonders if it’s too late to swan dive out of the window. Anyway, _date._ Junmyeon doesn’t exactly know what to make of that but he’s pretty sure it made his heart flip. It’s official. Junmyeon’s heart is a gold medalist in the backflips event of the metaphorical Hearts Olympics.

_Fucking hell, he’s pathetic. He wants to scream._

“So, cuddle?” Yifan gives him the puppy eyes. Of course, the puppy eyes can never leave the equation and continue to make Junmyeon suffer future repercussions of his compulsions regarding said puppy eyes’ effects.

“But why do you wanna cuddle?” Junmyeon’s just trying to get Yifan to see reason. Because Junmyeon is very young, very virile, and very horny for his boss no matter how hard he tries to deny it. And sharing a bed, _cuddling,_ with him won’t do any good for Junmyeon’s skyrocketing libido.

Maybe he should really just swan dive out of the window.

“Because it’s a cold night and the thermostat’s broken. The spare room’s gonna be a freezer and I don’t want you to become an icicle tomorrow.”

“Alright.” Junmyeon acquiesces with a nod. “Alright.”

_Fuck it, I’m cuddling with Yifan and ain’t no one gonna say a thing about it._

He’s not expecting to get a nick of sleep when the object of his _romantic_ desires is merely four inches away from his person, separated by a rumpled blanket and their clothing. Who was Junmyeon kidding?

He stares at the darkened ceiling where a luminous projection paints swirls of hypnotic blue light onto the otherwise plain surface. It reminds Junmyeon of the incandescence of an oceanarium, sans the marine creatures of course.

“You can’t sleep?” He whispers because he knows Yifan’s as awake as he is. “You really need to get some rest Fan, big day tomorrow. Remember?”

Yifan grunts. He shifts, the scratch of blankets are loud in this sort of stillness. He ends up facing Junmyeon and Junmyeon can feel the burn of Yifan’s stare on the side of his face. He continues to gaze at the ceiling, idly wishing for the swirling flashes of blue light to put him to sleep. But it seems like sleep isn’t going to happen to the both of them anytime soon.

“I can’t sleep.” Yifan admits though his voice is hoarse and tired. “I want a set of breaks for my brain, sometimes.”

“What are you thinking about?” Junmyeon finally relents and turns to his side. Blue lights bounce off the planes of Yifan’s face. Junmyeon still thinks it’s unfair that someone can look this good without even doing anything. “Other than your presentation tomorrow of course.”

Yifan ponders for a minute. His eyes close and he inhales. “My parents.”

“I’m pretty sure they’re proud of you.” Junmyeon says. There’s a smile on his face. “Your life’s ideal. Every parent would want you to be their child.”

“I guess. If they were alive, I guess they’ll be proud of me.”

Now, that’s an aspect Junmyeon is not privy too. As far as he knows, Yifan’s father is the current chairman of the biggest telecommunications industry from which Magnus branched off a few years ago. Now that man, according to Yifan’s biography on Magnus’ website, is alive. Junmyeon’s eyebrows furrow.

“Parents?”

“Yeah.” Yifan whispers. He shifts so that he’s staring at the ceiling. There’s a faraway look on his face. “My _dad,_ isn’t my dad. Chairman Wu is my uncle. My parents died when I was fifteen – accident. Don’t tell anyone though, my family never disclosed it and uncle wanted me to have this ideal genius kid image, to perfect that, he adopted me.”

“Oh.”

The older slaps a palm over his face and quietly chuckles. “I’m not supposed to tell anyone. It’s within my family’s secretive traditions. If uncle knew, he’s gonna have my head.”

Junmyeon looks at him. “Why did you tell me, Fan?”

“I don’t know. Maybe because I trust you? Maybe because I want someone to know? Maybe because I need someone to hear that despite everything I have, sometimes I still feel like a failure.” It’s nearly two in the morning, Junmyeon’s eyelids are heavy. “Have you ever felt this way Myeon? Like your brain’s conspiring against you and no matter how hard you try to see the light on some things it still tells you that you’re nothing and you’ll always be nothing. And it’s crazy because people will kill to stand on my shoes but there are times that it’s just so fucking hard to be me. if I can just leave my body for a day and be someone else, I will.”

“Always.” Junmyeon says, his eyes are half closed and he finds himself honest. “I really don’t have anything to be proud of but frankly, it’s just society pressuring us nearly to death. It’s hard to fight against your brain sometimes, but really, you’re all you have. At the end of the day, you have to rise against your negative emotions. But at the same time, I don’t think you should invalidate your feelings Fan, feel whatever the fuck you need to feel. But just because everyone thinks you’re the ideal, doesn’t mean you have to meet their expectations. You have to do things at your own pace and always be fucking proud of yourself.”

Yifan doesn’t answer for a time and when he speaks, his voice is thick with sleep. “Thanks, Myeon. I needed to hear that.”

Junmyeon nods and the last thing he feels as he falls asleep, is Yifan’s arm around his middle, drawing him close.


	2. Chapter 2

**DEAR LUCY l** two of three 

Junmyeon can’t believe what he’s seeing. He just cannot believe that Yifan, for all his hidden anxieties and seemingly insurmountable insecurities, is the same person casually striding in the room in his, all black, custom three piece Salvatore Ferragamo suit. It’s the first time Junmyeon’s seeing his boss with a tie around his neck and Yifan’s looking straight out of Junmyeon’s fevered dreams.  Holy fuck.  Junmyeon blinks and hopes that his brain can finally process what his eyes see.

This seriously cannot be the same person who ate brunch with him earlier today. To be specific, earlier today Yifan was decked in some egregious looking pastel clothes. His hair was a mess and he was nearly falling asleep over the breakfast Junmyeon whipped up from whatever hodgepodge he found in Yifan’s kitchen.

Yifan paces the room, his gait confident and his tone is nearly arrogant in how self-assured he sounds. But among everyone in the room, it’s only Junmyeon who knows that Yifan’s current persona stems from working himself to his marrows for nearly two years.

The holographic projection shifts with every minute flick of Yifan’s wrist though no one even glances at said projections. Every single person in the room stares at Yifan. They’re riveted. Junmyeon has yet to decide if it’s because of  Lucy  or because of Yifan himself. For Junmyeon, who knows  Lucy  like the back of his own hand at this point, it’s Yifan who’s got him holding his breath.

His boss is so attractive. Junmyeon wants to cry tears of pure sexual frustration.

“We’re looking at a Q1 release next year. In February to be precise. Any questions?”

The room is entirely silent for all five seconds before everyone bursts into an applause. Junmyeon notices the pleased curl of Yifan’s lips. He had known that Yifan was going to deliver. And deliver he just did.

“The only question here is if it’s possible to hasten production.” A man in a grey suit chuckles. His tasteful salt and pepper hair and facial bone structure are reminiscent of Yifan’s own.

The CEO grins and there’s the Yifan Junmyeon is nearly intimately acquainted with. “Thank you, Chairman.”

Oh, no wonder they look the same.

“It is only appropriate for a great job to be recognized and you did wonderful, son.”

The rest of the board members nod in salient approval. Junmyeon is happy.

//

The pop of a Dom Perignon precedes a loud cheer.

The entirety of Magnus shares Yifan’s joy as Lucy finally passes through the needle’s eye. Nothing and no one went through the board’s meticulous judgment as smoothly as the program did. Everyone is happy and everyone wants to get in on the merriment. Even Kyungsoo, who’s usually seen with his nose buried on a work tablet, has let loose and is now belting a dramatic ballad amid drunken hoots. Who knew the financial head was so talented. He sings better than professional singers, as far as Junmyeon’s concerned.

“I see the way you look at him.”

Junmyeon’s sleeves are rolled to his elbows, his hair is a mess, and he’s tipsy.

Baekhyun is unfairly sober, Junmyeon decides after he glances at the other intern. He is hyperaware of the thousand and one ways he could incriminate himself in this situation.

He feigns ignorance, “Look at who?”

“Don’t give me that bullshit.” Baekhyun grins. It’s so sly. Junmyeon senses a brewing headache. “Who else but the man of the hour. I do admit, the boss is pretty fucking hot. I don’t blame your fancy.”

Junmyeon knocks back his drink and grins, “You should have seen him earlier. I had to think about butterflies and unicorns to not get an erection.”

Baekhyun chokes, “Fuck you. That’s too much information.” The other intern groans, “Great, now it’s in my head. Butterflies and erections – honestly Junmyeon, what the fuck?”

“You started it.” Junmyeon laughs at the sight of Baekhyun’s misery. “And you said it yourself, he’s hot. And I just happen to share a workplace with him which consequently allows me to see him every day. It’s not my fault that I just want him to bend me over his workstation most of the time. Don’t ask how I stay productive, because I have no fucking idea.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Baekhyun laughs, “Timeout. That’s too much information,  shut up . Great, now it’s all in my head. What the fuck, I hate you.”

“That’s your fault. You shouldn’t have asked.”

Baekhyun finishes the contents of his flute, all the while giving Junmyeon the stink eye. Junmyeon, once again, laughs at his face.

Two hours and a couple of champagne bottles later, everyone in the floor is drunk or going there.

“Alright,” Yifan begins, there’s a flush across his cheeks, his tie has gone missing and his hair is back to its usual bird’s nest form. “Since  Lucy , has received the green light and since I love you all, we’re all gonna fuck work and go on a three day vacation. All expenses paid!”

Junmyeon remembers the way everybody yells and nothing else. He’s drunk too, very drunk, though he still manages to book an Uber. His eyes can’t even focus on the text on his phone, vision doubling from the alcohol he consumed.

“Myeon.”

Junmyeon gathers himself and smiles at his boss. “Told you it’s gonna be alright. You did amazing. Congratulations,  dear.”

Yifan grins. Junmyeon, though drunk himself, can still tell that Yifan’s drunker than he is.

“Thanks Myeon.” He then thrusts his phone to Junmyeon. “I’m embarrassed. I’m so sloshed I can’t even get a cab home.”

“Don’t sweat it.” Junmyeon says. “I’m waiting for my lift. We can share, your flat’s in the same direction anyway.

“Wonderful.”

//

Yifan’s head hits his shoulder.

Junmyeon is considerably less drunk. The ride is quiet.

“I’m really happy for you.” He begins, “Congratulations, Fan.”

“Congratulations to you too Myeon. Trust me, wouldn’t have finished  Lucy  if it weren’t for you. Thanks a ton. You’re the best fucking intern a man can have and I know you’ll go on to do amazing things.”

The candor of Yifan’s statement renders Junmyeon speechless as it leaves a bitter taste. Frankly, Junmyeon wants to keep working in Magnus. He’s developed an attachment to the place. He’s even fond of Kyungsoo’s trademarked frown and the legendary shoddy coffee.

And somehow, he’s become horribly attached to Yifan.

No.

He shouldn’t dream of it. He’s accustomed to the older man’s fickle tendencies. Yifan’s inexorably drawn to people who sparks his creativity and despite his lighthearted provocations, Junmyeon is aware that Yifan hasn’t thought of him for the long run. Now that  Lucy ’s finished and his internship is nearing its end, there’s nothing else that can potentially tie him to Magnus.

Unless, Yifan wills it.

Junmyeon rubs his palms on the material of his pants. “I should.” He whispers, “I’m getting my last eighteen credits from the best company I could ever hope for. I’ll make you proud.”

Yifan lifts his head from Junmyeon’s shoulder. They stare at each other and Junmyeon focuses on the shadows that conceal Yifan’s face. He wonders what thoughts run in the man’s head.

“Hey.”

Junmyeon hums.

“Stay the night.”

“What?”

Yifan’s apartment building looms near.

“Forget about Magnus, forget about  Lucy.  Please, will you stay the night?”

//

The familiarity of Yifan’s chipped mugs is an odd thought. For some reason, Junmyeon finds himself tangled with the little nothings that make up Yifan’s larger than life personality. He knows which tea Yifan drinks, he knows what milk Yifan likes in his coffee, he knows that it takes minutes for Yifan to fully function after he wakes up in the morning, and at the same time he knows that Yifan could go nights without sleep and still be fully functional otherwise.

He knows Yifan, the Yifan no one else sees. He knows Yifan – that handsome stranger in the club all those months ago, his workaholic boss, his odd roommate at times and he’s attached to all of Yifan’s sides.

Junmyeon has an epiphany as he watches Yifan sips his Earl Grey from across the breakfast bar.

“I –“

Yifan’s eyes peek from behind the lid of his favorite cup – a baby blue mug with an animated portrait of his deceased feline friend.

“Hm?”

I like you.

He’s not drunk enough to say it.

“I meant to ask why you wanted me here.”

Yifan puts down his mug and gives him a shrug. He’s almost sober, but there’s still a drunken spark in his usually clear eyes. “I don’t know, Myeon. What about you? Why’d you agree, why did you stay?”

Junmyeon blinks in surprise.  What’s he going to answer to that?

“Told you,” He begins, a chuckle emanates from the back of his throat, hiding just how completely shaken he is by the casualness of their situation, “I’m your intern, you’re my boss and whatever you say goes.”

“Really? We’re not in the office, did you forget?”

“No.” Junmyeon shakes his head, “What’s gotten into you, Fan? You’re being weird.”

With the most impassive expression on his face, Yifan says “I guess I just wanted to sleep with you.”

Junmyeon chokes on his Earl Grey.

“What the fuck?”

“I meant that in the most literal sense.”

Junmyeon has another wheezing spiel. Yifan just looks at him with a fond smile on his face, “Or, I could be coerced into other relatively sexual scenarios if you want to. Ball in your court.”

“I’ll put  ‘don’t let the boss get drunk’  on your daily agendas. I’ll do it first thing tomorrow.”

“Junmyeon, I mean it. I really just wanna sleep with you on the same bed. Spooning you makes me feel comfortable and the back of your neck smells nice. I’ll consider it a reward, I did a good job right?”

Junmyeon blinks, “Okay.”

Yifan beams at him.

//

It’s nearly two in the morning when in his drunkenness, Junmyeon realizes that cuddling with Yifan is completely scrambling his brains. He shifts, one of Yifan’s large palm slides through his abdomen. Junmyeon fights the urge to shake.

“Stop.”

Junmyeon freezes. “What?”

“Stop moving. You’re like a squid.”

“Yifan what the fuck?”

Yifan laughs and for a moment, Junmyeon simply basks in his happiness.

“Did I do a good job?” Yifan murmurs more as a theoretical question to himself more than anyone else. “I did a good job right?”

Junmyeon faces him and pokes his index finger on the nonexistent softness of Yifan’s left cheek. “You did. Why do you doubt yourself when you’ve accomplished so much?”

“I don’t know, Myeon.”

“You do know that we’re proud of you, right? Everyone is proud of you,  Lucy  is phenomenal and she sprouted right from your brain. I wish I had your genes.”

Yifan laughs, “You flatter me too much.”

“Flattery doesn’t work on you. Plus, I don’t even need to flatter you. You love me with or without flattery.”

“You’re sure?”

“Positive. I’m the best intern you have. Admit it Fan. I’m more than half of your in office manpower, you don’t have another choice but to love me. I even check if someone spat on your coffee, I’m that valuable.”

“Yes,” Yifan shakes because he’s laughing too much, “Yes. You’re the best, you can hold this fact over my head until the day I die.”

“Good.”

For a second, Junmyeon allows Yifan’s laughter to die down. He continues to stare at Yifan’s face and he wonders how in the world he got in this exact situation – on Yifan’s bed, with Yifan’s long arm strapped across his torso, Yifan laughing beside him, literally everything else with Yifan seem like a novelty.

When he filed his application for the internship position at Magnus, he expected a lot of indirect tech exposure and coffee runs for the execs, more or less in equal measure. Never in his wildest dreams did he think he would work alongside the boss, and not just a glorified assistant but an actual colleague.

“Fan.”

“Hm?”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For everything.”

“Why do you sound like you’re dying of some terminal illness or something?”

“Shut the fuck up, I’m in good health.”

“Great to hear. What are you thanking me for, then?”

“I don’t know. I’m in a very grateful mood. Guess it’s the alcohol.”

Yifan snickers, “You’re welcome, Junmyeon. Hey, I suddenly remember the first time you were on this bed.”

“Yifan, don’t go there. I will strangle you.”

The older man shifts and pulls Junmyeon’s back closer against his front. “Why? I thought you were the most beautiful human being I’ve ever seen.”

“Don’t bullshit me. I was drunk out of my goddamned mind.”

“Me too. But you know what, after the alcohol’s gone down the drain and I saw you at the office again, I still thought you were the most beautiful human being I’ve ever seen.”

The room is dark and Junmyeon stares at the familiar neon blue swirls that laced the ceiling like a hypnotic mirage. His skin feels warm. “Why do you say that? It’s inappropriate.” Yifan shifts, pulls Junmyeon closer. Junmyeon feels Yifan’s next warm exhale against the back of his neck.

“That’s your word. Inappropriate. This is inappropriate, that’s inappropriate.” Yifan chuckles and his lips brush against Junmyeon’s skin, “Now tell me something, Myeon. What’s appropriate?”

Junmyeon’s entire body is rigid. He’s absolutely sure that any sort of movement will be the cause of his demise. Maybe he’s going to spontaneously catch fire and turn to dust. Right there. Right then.

He wasn’t prepared for this  internship.  If he could still call it that. He wasn’t prepared to fall in lust with his own boss and he wasn’t prepared to catch any sort of  feelings.  Yifan’s unattainable. Junmyeon knows this fact better than anything else.

“I’m very fragile.” Junmyeon turns as he says this. His face is an inch away from Yifan’s. “I’m telling you. I’m so fucking fragile. If you do something I’ll give in. I’ll fucking erode faster than a sandcastle.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I like you, so fucking much. I know I shouldn’t but it is what it is. It’s frustrating. It’s annoying. I fucking hate it. But Yifan,  holy fuck,  I’m not a computer program. I can’t write a code to erase this. I’m not  Lucy.  Now this is what’s appropriate, right? It’s appropriate that I don’t do anything.”

“Why don’t you ask me?” Yifan smiles as he closes eyes, “Ask me.”

Junmyeon groans, “You’re a gremlin. I don’t get you.”

This time Yifan lets out a bellow. “Maybe next time then. Can I kiss you?”

Junmyeon’s  yes dances upon the tip of his tongue though Yifan doesn’t wait when he erases the space between their faces and slants his lips against the seam of Junmyeon’s mouth. At the back of Junmyeon’s mind, he thinks that this is appropriate. It doesn’t matter that Yifan’s his boss, it doesn’t matter that Yifan is seven leagues away from Junmyeon in terms of literally everything.

It doesn’t matter. Yifan has warm lips. Junmyeon can still taste the remnants of the Dom Perignon when he swipes his tongue on Yifan’s lower lip. Yifan stops for a minute, Junmyeon can feel him shake. He smiles and repeats the process, this in turn, elicits a pinched off moan from the back of Yifan’s throat. Junmyeon wants to laugh.

“Is that revenge?” Yifan asks when they part. His eyes bore into Junmyeon’s. “I admit defeat.”

“I’m not even doing anything.”

“You’re not doing anything,  yet.”  Yifan says, his gaze doesn’t stray away. “You’re so  fucking  pretty. I swear to ever loving god, I don’t think I’ve seen anyone so  beautiful.  You drive me  insane.  I see you every day and your face doesn’t cease to amaze me. Junmyeon, you have no idea -- ”

Junmyeon moves, throws a leg over Yifan’s torso and heaves himself up so that he’s sitting on Yifan’s crotch.

“Shut the fuck up.”

Yifan’s lips curl against Junmyeon’s mouth.

Yes, Yifan is leagues away but right now Yifan’s here – so close – and Junmyeon decides that whatever happens will happen and no matter what he does, it won’t stop anything.

Living in the moment. It’s something Chanyeol abides. And what the hell, Junmyeon decides that maybe Chanyeol’s right after all.

//

“I’m hung over off of champagne.” Yifan complains that morning. Junmyeon’s form is half folded over the breakfast counter, one hand busy scrolling through unread emails and the other busy arranging breakfast: some  gimbap,  a side of  kimchi,  egg rolls and good old black coffee with three spoons of sugar.

“You’re old.” Junmyeon replies, “You have to accept you’re weak ass tolerance and your mortality. Also, I hope you didn’t forget you told everyone we’re going on a vacation. All expenses paid.”

“Holy shit.” Yifan gasps, “I did?”

Junmyeon sighs, he was expecting it. “Anyway, I got lots of places open slots in case you want to do a late booking. There’s a resort, some staycation place whatever, and a retreat facility. It’s pretty, a wooden lake house half in the middle of nowhere.”

“Alright, lake house.” Yifan declares and casually wraps his long limbs around Junmyeon’s frame in a loose back hug. “You’re a life saver. What’d I do without you?”

“Who in the world knows, Fan. Who in the world knows.”

//

“This is wonderful.”

In hindsight, Junmyeon thought the lake house’ website was a photoshopped scam. He didn’t think much when he’d booked the entire place for Magnus with Yifan’s black card knowing that the employees don’t know free vacation until it hit them on their face. In Magnus, everyone’s a high functioning workaholic – vacations are for weaklings.

But this place is truly wonderful. Junmyeon hasn’t seen grass that’s so green it’s nearly immaculate, and lake water that’s so clean he could look down and see the pores on his face. Wooden cabins dot the grounds, and warm orange lights cobbled pathways.

“Good choice.” Kyungsoo remarks. He’s finally without his glasses and for once, he’s wearing a nondescript black t-shirt. Junmyeon thinks he’s an entirely new person outside of office premises.

Junmyeon smiles, “It’s all thanks to Yifan’s drunken spontaneity.”

“We should definitely get him drunk more often.” Baekhyun, who’s casually standing behind Junmyeon, jokes. Of course Yifan hears this and laughs. “I only drink when I’m happy and that my friend is key to living.”

Baekhyun, because he’s sassy intern extraordinaire who frequently communicates with the higher-ups as he would a best friend, says, “You won’t get laid that way, boss. You’re fun without alcohol, but with alcohol you’re an entirely new species.”

“And why do you think I don’t get laid?”

Junmyeon starts choking.

“Because I have a feeling and this feeling is pretty damn accurate if I should say so myself.” Baekhyun has the audacity to wink. “But who knows, maybe this place will bring out the magic in all of us. Happy fucking, everyone.”

Kyungsoo actually bellows. “What the fuck Yifan. Where’d you get all these interns?”

Baekhyun scoffs, “You love me though, Soo. Don’t lie. I know you love me. I’m too valuable not to be loved, I help you run through accountants and prevent a lawsuit. You have got to love me.”

“Whatever Baekhyun. Don’t call me Soo.”

Baekhyun laughs, “Whatever,  Soosoo.”

And before Kyungsoo could send a well-aimed smack right on Baekhyun’s face, the latter sprints cackling his head off. 

Kyungsoo clicks his tongue. “Year by year, why do I still let you choose the interns?”

“Because I have clear, unbiased judgment.”

“Yeah and year by year, we get the likes of Baekhyun Byun wreaking havoc in the office. It’s a good thing he does accounts better than me sometimes.” 

“See, you love him.”

“Shut up, Yifan.”

Junmyeon laughs, some things really don’t change.

// 

“You’re short one room?”

Junmyeon blinks at the receptionist. The woman is so pretty, the sort that reminds Junmyeon of those girls in skin care commercials. Her alabaster face is so clear it’s nearly translucent. Junmyeon is tiny envious. 

“I’m really sorry sir. There’s simply no more single room for only one guest. The Lakehouse’ master villa can accommodate five people though.” 

Junmyeon has a particularly bad headache brewing. 

“What’s the problem?” Yifan, like the phantom that he is, suddenly materializes beside Junmyeon. 

“There’s no more room for Soori.” Junmyeon deadpans, “You’ll have to share the big ass villa with someone else. So, who would it be?”

Yifan raises one eyebrow, “You don’t wanna share the villa with me?”

“I’m rooming with Baekhyun.”

Yifan frowns. He faces the wide eyed receptionist and says, “The whole place is paid for right?” 

“Yes sir.” 

“Alright then Junmyeon, Baekhyun’s gonna share with Soori and you’re sharing the villa with me. There, everybody happy?”

“But Yifan—“

“Let’s go Myeon I’m so tired, I wanna get some sleep.” 

// 

“You’re ridiculously happy about this and I seriously don’t get it.”

“What?” 

Yifan has this way about him — like he’s acting real diligent to resemble the human embodiment of a kicked puppy — and it never fails to tug at Junmyeon’s heart strings. They’re both so incredibly pathetic, Junmyeon isn’t sure what to even do anymore.

“Fan,” Junmyeon sighs. He shuffles forward and reaches his hands towards Yifan and smushes Yifan’s cheeks between his palms. Junmyeon has perpetually cold, cadaver hands. Yifan winces. “You just can’t do that. It’s unprofessional. You should have gotten some alone time and I would have been just fine rooming with Baekhyun. Now I’m pretty sure the entire office thinks we’re fucking.”

Yifan shrugs, “But we’re not though, do you want to?”

Junmyeon’s eyeballs will detach from their sockets one of these days, “Yifan shut up. Get some sleep because apparently they’re holding some fancy buffet dinner for us tonight there’s music too. Real fun.”

“Let’s take a nap then!”

“What are you, sixty-five?”

“Shut up Myeon, let’s cuddle.”

//

“It’s not working.” 

Yifan’s upper body pokes from the hatch. His eyebrows meet in the middle of his forehead. “I can’t make it start.”

Junmyeon stands at the bow, his back against the forward pulpit’s railing. “Told you it’s not a good idea to go yachting tonight, guess we’ll have to wait until tomorrow, I don’t think anyone’s noticed yet.”

“I’m sorry Myeon.”

“It’s okay.” Junmyeon smiles and shivers. Yifan approaches and throws a warm fleece blanket — which he seemed to have conjured out of nowhere — over Junmyeon’s shoulder. 

“Don’t get sick, it’ll be my fault.”

Junmyeon lets out a quiet laugh. The night is still, the dull shine of the moon reflects against the lake’s undisturbed surface. The merriment from the villas is a mere whisper. Junmyeon stares at Yifan. “You’ve been uncharacteristically quiet since we got here. Do you mind me asking why?”

“It’s nothing.” 

“It’s got to be something when you’re so quiet. You’re rarely quiet. It’s okay though, you don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to.”

“It’s just,” Yifan inhales, “I miss dad so much, I miss mom. I’ve been missing them a lot these days and it’s so hard to deal with the reality that they’re gone, they’re gone for nearly fifteen years and I still get sad that I don’t have my family anymore. The chairman’s nice and all, buthe’s never treated me like a son.” Yifan lets out a derisive laugh, “I don’t like admitting this but I’m sure he only bothered to adopt me because I can be so good at what I do. I’m a tech expert, I’m good with computers, I can write codes and develop programs and he’s a businessman. More than anything I’m only an investment. I like to say that I’m more than that, but am I?” He glances at Junmyeon, “ I feel like I’m a machine. I just wanna be treated like I’m a living being.”

Yifan doesn’t hide his misery. Junmyeon could see the pain so clearly on the man’s face, it’s nearly a surprise. Junmyeon gets an epiphany and he’s overcome with sudden shame. He palms his face and exhales a cold breath.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?”

“Sometimes, I forget too.”

“Forget what?”

“Forget that you’re as human as the rest of us. That you have feelings, and that you can be vulnerable too. You’re too good at what you do. I didn’t even think of what place you were in before you got to where you are now.”

Yifan laughs and he moves behind Junmyeon and hooks his chin over the intern’s shoulder. “I was born with a silver spoon, privileged straight from the womb. Don’t think too much about it, I’m alright. And hey you’re the only person I talk to these days. These therapy sessions are great, thanks.” 

“Quit it, I’m not a therapist.”

Junmyeon feels every breath emanating from Yifan’s mouth fanning the side of his neck. He wants to squirm but he’s rooted on the spot, rigid from head to toe. 

“But for what it’s worth, I think you’re more than that. You’re more than this freaky tech genius persona you have going on, you’re more than a businessman. You’re not just an investment. You’re all of these tiny weird things that make you  human. For the record, I do think that’s the best thing about you.”

“My inanity is the best thing about me? Is that an insult.”

“Nope, but it’s amazing that even with your super intellectual capacity, you still burn your tongue because you don’t think to wait for your tea to cool down. It’s the little things that matter. They make up who you are.”

“What do you know,” Yifan says, “I think that’s some of the best words I’ve heard and I’m nearly thirty.”

They’re quiet for a minute until, “Do you like me?”

“What sort of fucking question is that?” Junmyeon turns his head and his face meets Yifan’s, a hair’s breadth in between them. “Of course I like you. I’m on a highly paid internship. What’s not to like?” 

Yes, Junmyeon has capitulated on the excuses his drunkenness can provide. He will never admit that he breathed  i think i love you  as he ground himself against Yifan’s crotch just last night, desperate for a release that he knows he can never have. In the morning, it’s all back to square one. Yifan is his pragmatic genius of a boss, and as much as Junmyeon’s brilliant in his own right, he can never live up to the expectationsof being with someone so high up in the ladder. 

He could be such a fucking fool sometimes. 

Yifan’s impassive expression doesn’t change. He stares at Junmyeon with the same look on his face when he’s coding — a sort of serious, unblinking stare. Junmyeon is tenfolds nervous. “Why are you looking at me like that?” 

“I like you.” Yifan says, “That’s a roundabout way of saying that Icouldn’t be anymore grateful that you’re in my life. That if I ever believed in a god, I would have been on my knees thanking them for you. I like everything about you. You’re fascinating. The way you look, move, and speak — your fucking mind. You’re amazing and I’m attracted.”

You’re attracted and that’s that. It’s all surface level. And here I am, a fucking fool who throughout this entire fucking process, managed to fall in love. This isn’t even falling, falling cannot be a clear enough analogy of how I feel. This is skydiving, thirty thousand feet off the ground, the air is so thin up and I jumped. I forgot the parachute. 

Junmyeon just smiles and eases out of Yifan’s loose hold. “I’ve been fascinating from the start.” He’s going to joke his way out of this. Because among everything else, Junmyeon’s good at that too. He’s got a gold medal in hiding, he’s a champion in the  running-away-from-potentially-emotionally-harmful-situations  department. Maybe it’s the reason why he’s got ice cold hands. He just couldn’t be bothered to be victim to fickle emotions. He’s a busy man, he’s got no time to be swayed with words born from emotionally charged spurs of the moment. 

But sometimes — sometimes Junmyeon forgets. 

“I think i’ll be fascinated by you for the rest of my life.” 

Junmyeon doesn’t want to think anymore. He doesn’t want to second guess every little meaning behind Yifan’s seemingly straightforward words, he doesn’t want to find the pretenses behind them. He doesn’t want to ask questions. He can be a real fool sometimes and he knows how this will end. But then again, he’s also stupid enough to forget the parachute in the first place so what even is the point of trying to save himself when he’s fallen too fast, too soon. 

What in the ever loving fuck, “I like you enough to wanna actually fuck you.”

Yifan smiles as he leans in to kiss Junmyeon. 

“So you wanna fuck me?” Yifan smiles as Junmyeon anchors his hands over Yifan’s shoulder and breathes into Yifan’s mouth. 

“I could be coerced.” Junmyeon replies, teasing. “I sometimes want you to bend me over your workstation.”

“We could arrange that.”

Junmyeon smiles against the seam of Yifan’s mouth. “Yes please.”

I love you. 

He’ll regret this in the morning. But for now, Junmyeon basks in the heat of Yifan’s body and the subtle reassurance that right now Yifan is close. It feels like a dream, a tangible dream. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi im alive. med school is so hard bye. this is a mess im sorry

**Author's Note:**

> HELLO SAM WRITES KRISHO AS SHE HAS A COMPLETE FUCKING BREAKDOWN OVER JUNMYEON E-WORDING AND BEING QUARANTINED. PLEASE SAY SOMETHING SO SHE DOESN'T GO COMPLETELY CRAZY @showmyun


End file.
